CHAPTER 2

The carriage slowed as it approached the gates of Lycoria Academy, and Elena’s chest tightened before they even stopped. The walls rose high and cold, carved from dark stone that seemed to swallow the light. Beyond them, students moved through the grounds in small groups, their voices carrying faintly through the air.

For years, Lycoria had existed only in stories.

The academy that accepted the kingdom's most gifted heirs. The academy where future rulers, warriors, and saintesses were forged. The academy where failure was remembered far longer than success.

Elena remained seated for a moment after the carriage stopped. Part of her wished the journey had lasted a little longer.

Elaine stepped down first, posture straight and expression calm. Heads turned almost immediately, attention settling on her without hesitation. She moved forward without pause, carrying the quiet confidence of someone who expected to be noticed.

A step behind, Elena followed.

“Since when does Lycoria accept just anybody?”

“They don’t look like nobles.”

“At least the one in front is easy to look at.”

“Yeah. She’s very pretty.”

The comments drifted easily through the air. Elena kept walking, her gaze lowered as the whispers settled around her. Beside her, Elaine showed no sign of hearing them at all.

Lycoria was not a place wealth could open. Admission came through bloodline, achievement, or the goddess herself, and even then, there was no guarantee of success. Students arrived every year believing they were exceptional.

Many left, proving they were not.

Elaine slowed just enough for Elena to catch up before pushing open the doors of the admissions building.

“Listen,” she said. “After today, we go our separate ways.”

The words were expected.

They still stung.

Before Elena could answer, Elaine disappeared inside and claimed a seat near the front of the hall.

Elena watched her for a moment before moving toward the back. The distance between them felt familiar.

If Lycoria was meant to decide a person's worth, then she would endure whatever it demanded first.

Students filtered into the hall with quiet excitement, voices overlapping as chairs scraped against stone. Some sat with friends. Others introduced themselves to future allies.

Elena sat alone.

The noise faded the moment an instructor stepped forward. She wore dark academy robes, her silver hair pulled back tightly, her presence alone enough to silence the room.

“Welcome to Lycoria Academy,” the instructor said. “Some of you are here by blood. Others by merit. A few by the goddess's will alone.” Her gaze swept across the room. “None of that matters anymore.”

The hall remained silent.

“From this moment forward, every one of you begins at the same place.” A pause followed. “The bottom.”

A murmur rippled through the room before dying beneath her stare.

“The system is simple, but not forgiving. Every first year starts at the lowest rank. No exceptions. No advantage. No protection.” Her expression remained unchanged. “If you fail to advance after three evaluations, you will be removed from the academy.”

The word settled heavily inside Elena.

Removed.

Not suspended. Not transferred. Removed.

Around her, several students shifted uneasily.

“You will be judged in three areas,” the instructor continued. “Combat. Control. Devotion.”

She began pacing slowly across the front of the room.

“Combat measures your skill. Control measures your power. Devotion measures your worth to the goddess.”

The last words seemed to linger longer than the rest.

“Pass your evaluations and you advance. Fail, and you try again. Fail often enough, and Lycoria decides you do not belong here.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than before.

“You will find your schedules in your packets. Your performance from this day forward will determine your standing, your opportunities, and ultimately your future.”

For the first time, the instructor allowed her gaze to travel across the room.

“Many of you arrived believing you were exceptional.”

Her voice remained calm.

“By the end of the year, some of you will discover you were wrong.”

The room stayed silent long after she finished speaking.

Then chairs scraped against stone as students began to stand.

Elena remained seated for a moment longer, her fingers tightening around the packet in her lap.

For the first time since arriving, Lycoria felt real.

The door closed behind Elena as she stepped into the corridor. Noise rushed back all at once, but it felt distant, like it belonged somewhere else. Her grip tightened around the packet in her hand as she studied the unfamiliar symbols printed beneath her name.

Combat grounds.

Assessment halls.

Prayer chambers.

Every line felt like a challenge waiting for her.

Students moved around her in every direction, talking, laughing, already finding their place within the academy. Elena barely noticed them. Her thoughts carried her forward until she walked straight into something solid.

The impact knocked the breath from her chest.

Her balance slipped, and she hit the ground before she could catch herself. A few nearby students glanced over before continuing on their way, uninterested.

Elena looked up.

A young man stood before her.

Dark clothing. Straight posture. Calm eyes that revealed nothing.

For a moment, he seemed completely detached from the corridor around him, as though he belonged somewhere far beyond the academy walls.

Then recognition hit.

The Crown Prince.

Elena's stomach tightened.

He didn't look at her.

His attention rested somewhere beyond her shoulder, distant and unreadable. Without meaning to, Elena turned to follow his gaze.

Elaine stood several steps away.

She had stopped walking.

Neither of them spoke.

Yet something about the silence between them felt strangely natural, as though they had stepped into a conversation no one else could hear.

The corridor seemed quieter around them.

Even the students passing by instinctively moved around the space they occupied.

Elaine met his gaze without hesitation.

The prince's expression remained unchanged, but his attention never wavered.

For the first time, Elena understood what everyone had meant back at the ceremony.

Of course it would be Elaine.

The goddess's chosen daughter.

The beautiful daughter.

The werewolf.

She was everything Elena was not.

As though sensing her thoughts, the prince finally looked down.

His gaze passed over Elena briefly.

Not cold.

Not cruel.

Simply indifferent.

The feeling settled heavily in her chest.

It was familiar.

The quiet certainty of being close enough to be seen and still somehow overlooked.

She pushed herself to her feet and brushed the dust from her skirt.

“I'm sorry,” she said softly.

If he heard her, he gave no sign.

A moment later, he stepped around her and continued down the corridor.

The silence broke instantly.

Students resumed talking. Footsteps echoed against stone. The academy moved on as though nothing had happened.

Elaine turned and continued walking as well.

Elena tightened her grip on the packet and forced herself forward.

A sharp bell rang through the corridor, cutting through every conversation at once.

Students stopped mid-step as a voice echoed from somewhere ahead.

“First years, report to your assigned grounds immediately. Failure to arrive on time will be recorded.”

Elena glanced down at the schedule in her hand.

This was it.

There would be no second chances here.

Only proof.

Or failure.

For the first time in her life, she was stepping into a place where nobody knew who she was.

And for the first time in her life, that felt like an opportunity.